Angels at the Doorstep
by eppie
Summary: The value of your life is not determined how you begin or how you end, but by how you spend the time you are given. This is the story of Fantine's life's journey, as told by someone who knew her well.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Victor Hugo's characters, of course. Thanks for reading, and please review!

"And this is a genuine gold watch that I got off of some old guy just a bit ago! Worth quite a lot, I should think!" With a satisfied smile, Simon pocketed his watch, finally done showing me his collection for the day.

"That's nice, Simon," was my standard response. If it were anyone but him, I would have been impressed. After all, Simon was the most talented pickpocket out of all the kids I knew at the time...if stealing could be considered a talent. He was fourteen, a year my senior, and older than most of the kids in that part of town; all of them looked up to him. All but me, that is, because he thought too much of himself. I think the fact that he didn't impress me bothered him, too, so he made a habit out of showing me all the loot he'd acquired recently.

He paused a moment, then took the watch out of his pocket and held it out to me with a strange expression. "Here, you take it."

I looked at it in surprise. "I don't want it!"

Even though it was growing dark, I could see his face redden either in anger or embarrassment. "Why not?"

I shrugged. "Because. Why do you want to give it to me, anyway?"

"Because..." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Because maybe we could...be more than friends." From his expression, I could tell that he hadn't meant to be that blunt.

I laughed. "What are you talking about? 'Maybe we could be more than friends'? What kind of crazy talk is that?"

"It ain't crazy!" he yelled angrily, then stomped off.

I was honestly confused by Simon's odd behavior. I'd never imagined that he had any reason for impressing me other than his own peace of mind in knowing that he had successfully impressed everyone he knew. Suddenly, I felt somewhat guilty, thinking maybe Simon had poured his heart out and I'd just gone and broken it. So I followed him to apologize, all the while wondering where he was going. Probably to steal something, I thought. That seemed to always make him feel better.

Sure enough, I was right. I rounded a corner just in time to see him steal, of all things, a piece of moldy bread from some skinny little girl and stuff it in his mouth. All thoughts of making amends with him flew out of my mind at that instant.

"Simon!" He turned in my direction, startled. "Why don't you leave her alone?"

"Why should I?" he asked me defiantly.

"Because if you don't I'll kick your ass!" I told him, equally defiant.

He grinned somewhat sadly. "See, that's what I like about you, Ellie. You ain't scared of nothing." He glanced disdainfully at his little victim. "Like most girls." With that, he walked off.

I went over to the kid, who was just sitting there, trembling all over like some little mouse who'd barely escaped being mauled by a cat. I sighed and, digging in the pocket of my dirty old dress, tossed her a coin. "Here, go get yourself something else to eat, okay? I doubt that bread was any good anyway. I hope it makes him good and sick. It'd serve him right." I turned and walked away, but before I got too far, something made me look back.

The girl was still sitting there shaking all over. She'd not even picked up the coin I'd given her, but left it laying where it had fallen. I went back to her, somewhat concerned. I hated seeing these kids who had no idea how to survive on the streets, amidst policemen and jerks like Simon and all kinds of other crazy stuff. And I had a feeling that this kid, whoever she was, wasn't going to make it on her own.

"Hey, what's you name?" I asked her as gently as I was capable of being. She didn't respond, just stared at me fearfully. "I'm Elise," I continued after a while. "That jackass who took your bread was Simon. You needn't worry about him. He's all talk, he won't hurt you." Still she said nothing. "You aren't much for small talk, huh? Well, that's okay, it really doesn't serve much purpose." I paused, studying her...she couldn't have been more than seven or eight, poor kid. "Hey, I bet you're hungry." If she wasn't literally starving, I'd be surprised. She looked like she'd fall over if you so much as touched her. "I know I am. Why don't we go grab a bite? What do you say?" Of course, she didn't say anything, but she did stand up and come with me, which I guess showed some progress.

I was surprised when she thanked me after I bought her something from a little shop around the corner. We were just sitting on the curb eating, and all the sudden I heard this, "Thanks." I was rather startled, as I had begun to think she was mute.

"So, you do talk?" I asked her with a little smile.

She nodded, then made an attempt to explain her behavior earlier. "I'm shy."

"Shy, huh?" I paused for a moment, pretending to be puzzled by her comment. "Well, that's kind of a weird name...do other kids ever give you a hard time?"

She giggled, which is what I'd kind of hoped for. "'Shy' is not my name!"

"It's not?" I asked her in mock confusion. "Well, what is your name, then?"

"Fantine," she told me, still smiling in amusement, probably thinking I was a real idiot. But at least I was getting somewhere.

"Well, Fantine, where are your folks?"

She stopped smiling immediately and just shrugged.

"You don't know?"

She shook her head but said nothing. Great, I thought, we're back to where we started.

"Well, have you been on your own for long?" By her expression, I was afraid she was about to cry, and I really wasn't looking forward to that, as I've never been that great at being sympathetic.

"No," she told me quietly. "I lived with Agnes."

"Who's Agnes? Your sister?"

Again I guessed wrong. "No. She's the lady I lived with my whole life. She told me that the angels gave me to her. Left me right on her doorstep." Fantine smiled faintly, but I couldn't help reading between the lines of this nice story, and for the millionth time, I wondered bitterly why people had kids if they were just going to abandon them. But Fantine sounded as though she was luckier than most, having ended up with this Agnes person.

"Are you lost, then? I'm sure Agnes is real worried about you."

It was at that point that she started to cry. Great.

"Hey, don't cry! If you're lost, I'll help you get home okay."

"No," she sobbed. "It's n-not that. Agnes...Agnes..."

"She died?" I finished for her quietly. She nodded, her sobs growing louder.

I didn't know what to say to her. I made it a rule never to cry myself, so I was never sure how to comfort someone in tears. It made me uncomfortable. But I liked this kid, and I felt sorry for her. I wanted to say something.

"I'm sorry about that, Fantine. I'm sure she was a real nice lady and you miss her a lot. But..." I paused, considering what I was getting myself into. "But you don't need to be scared about what you're going to do now. You can stick with me for a while if you want."

Her crying subsided for a moment. "You mean, I can live at your house?"

"Hey, I don't even live at my house." I sounded bitterer than I had intended to, but I don't think she caught that.

"You mean you have a house and don't live in it?" she continued innocently. I wasn't too fond of sharing my life story with others, but I knew that, in all fairness, it was her turn to play twenty questions.

"My mother and I don't exactly get along," I replied.

"Oh." That was all she said. Nothing about why my mother and I weren't on good terms, or where my father was, or anything. She actually knew when to quit. I was impressed.

About that time, Simon came along. "Hey, Ellie." Fantine stiffened, and I returned Simon's greeting with a glare.

"What's that for?" he asked.

"What do you think?" I snapped.

He shrugged, then saw Fantine. "Did you get yourself a new friend, Ellie?"

"Yeah," I replied, ignoring his mocking tone, "and you owe her an apology."

He grinned. "Aw, Ellie, you know I ain't big on apologizing."

"You better get big on apologizing, then."

Simon was quiet for a moment, and I could tell he was amused, which irritated me. "I don't know what I'd be apologizing for...I was doing her a favor. That bread tasted like you wouldn't believe, and I bet it's gonna come back up any minute now." He smirked at Fantine. "You can have it then."

"Hey, Simon," I said after a moment, "you know what you said about wanting to be more than friends?"

That wiped the smirk off his face. Suddenly he looked defensive and at the same time, the slightest bit hopeful. "Yeah?"

"What's so funny about that," I told him, "is that we're not even friends." Without waiting for his reply, I stood up, glancing down at Fantine. "Come on, if you're coming."

We walked in silence for a little while, then all of the sudden Simon called out to Fantine. "Hey, kid!"

She regarded him warily.

He paused, then finally said it. "Sorry."

He looked at me then, waiting for my reaction. My eyes met his for just an instant, then I looked away.

"Let's go, Fantine."


	2. Chapter 2

Simon was not deterred by my lack of interest in him. If anything, it made him more determined to show me this "other side" of himself which was suddenly coming into existence. He primarily did this by taking Fantine under his wing, quickly transforming from her tormentor into her protector. Although I knew he had an ulterior motive when it came to his looking out for her, I hadn't the heart to completely discourage him. He was being nice to the kid; I couldn't see any harm in that.

Of course, that was before I found out he was teaching her to pick-pocket. I'd left the two of them alone one morning and gone across the street to try and get some breakfast from the owner of the patisserie who thought herself benevolent for giving those of us who asked the stale rolls from the day before. She'd just gone to the back to get them when I heard a man shouting furiously and Simon yelling for Fantine to run. I ran outside in time to see him rounding the corner and picking her up upon realizing she couldn't keep up with him. The man, a rather portly fellow, soon gave up his chase. He yelled something obscene, shook his fist in their direction, and went on his way.

Worried and, at the same time, furious, I went to find them, forgetting the rolls. It didn't take me long, as Simon had stopped quickly after realizing that they were no longer being pursued. Fantine was crying, and she wept even louder when she saw me. Simon said nothing, but looked at me uncomfortably.

I glared at him. "What was that about?"

"She...I...well..." He scratched his shoulder, not looking at me.

Fantine sniffed and spoke between hiccoughing sobs. "I'm s-sorry, Simon...I tried to do it l-like you said. But he turned...around..."

"It's alright, Mouse," he told her. "Mouse" had been his nickname for her from the first, stemming from her being so little and timid. "You didn't do anything wrong...stuff like that happens every once in a while..."

"Do _not_ tell me you're teaching her what I think you are," I said, my eyes narrowing slightly.

He sighed and shrugged. "She's gotta learn to look out for herself."

"Not by pick pocketing!" I said firmly. "Besides, I made it my business to take care of her for now, and I can get by just fine without stealing."

"Yeah, Ellie," he said, suddenly sarcastic. "You beg. That's worse."

That stung, but I wouldn't let him see that. "Why shouldn't I take advantage of people's charity? If the patisserie lady feels like she can get on God's good side by giving me her rolls, then what's the harm--?"

"Doesn't it hurt your pride, Ellie?" he said softly, all sarcasm gone.

I shrugged and looked away. "I do what I have to."

He was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "So do I."

"Fine," I said, oddly enough no longer angry. I then glanced at Fantine, who had been watching us silently. "Just...just leave her out of it, alright? I'd rather her not be arrested before she turns nine."

He smiled slightly. "Fair enough." He then turned to Fantine. "I'm sorry that happened, Mouse...it won't again. You okay?"

She nodded, and it suddenly struck me that Simon really cared something about her, that it wasn't all show...and that he actually cared enough about me to let me win this one without much of a fight. He finally had me, if not enamored, at least impressed.


	3. Chapter 3

Simon and I having reached an understanding and Fantine being terrified at the idea of ever again thieving, I decided to indoctrinate her to my way of doing things. The next morning, I took her with me to the patisserie. The result of doing so, however, caught me by surprise, leading to much more than I had bargained for.  
  
As I made my usual, admittedly shameless, request for leftovers, Fantine gazed longingly at a chocolate éclair, taunting her at eye level from the store counter. I couldn't help noticing the patisserie lady watching her.  
  
She nodded distractedly after I had finished my daily plea, and then, instead of going to the back of the store in order to hurriedly have me gone (after all, her charity only extended so far--she couldn't have her customers disturbed by dirty children lingering about her place of business), she spoke to Fantine. "Do you like chocolate, dearie?"  
  
Fantine, startled by having been directly addressed, hesitated, then nodded shyly.  
  
"Well, then..." said the shop owner, handing the pastry to Fantine, "you ought to have spoken up before."  
  
Fantine and I both stared at the éclair in disbelief. Hers was pleased, while mine was confused. I had stared at the éclairs many times to no avail, before I had finally hardened myself against such longings. However, upon reflection, it made some sense. While I was rather plain, with stringy black hair, dull gray eyes, and freckles, Fantine more closely resembled the dolls that could be seen in the toy store windows frequented by rich children and their parents. Apparently, the patisserie lady couldn't bring herself to refuse such a doll.  
  
"I'll get the rolls," she then said to me, her tone abruptly shifting from one of admiration to one of disdain. I nodded, then glanced back to see Fantine perched on the edge of a crate, daintily eating her pastry. Noticing me, she stopped guiltily. "You want half, Elise?"  
  
I smiled slightly and shook my head. "Nah, it's alright."  
  
She hesitated before continuing to eat, making sure I really meant it. I had. After all, she had earned it. It seemed that just as Simon's pick-pocketing skills and my persuasive begging worked for us, Fantine's beauty worked for her. I found myself wondering which of our respective skills would get us the farthest, then smiled wryly at my own quandary. At this point, Fantine seemed to be coming out on top, and with the least amount of effort, at that.  
  
"Here," said the patisserie lady as she unceremoniously tossed the bag of stale rolls in my direction. But then she hesitated and seemed to soften a bit. "The little girl," she said to me quietly. "Who is she?"  
  
I hesitated, just as unwilling to reveal information about others as I was about myself. I'd found being too open wasn't the best way to get by, and could mean more trouble than it was worth. Nevertheless, the question seemed harmless enough, and I couldn't risk losing one of my few benefactors.  
  
"An orphan," I responded, then added dryly, "like the rest of us."  
  
The patisserie lady sighed. "Such a shame. She's an adorable child, and so sweet. Doesn't deserve a life on the streets."  
  
Helplessly, I felt my face flush with shame and bit off an angry retort. Fantine, adorable and sweet though she may be, was no more human than the more homely homeless. When I could trust myself to open my mouth and be civil, I simply responded, "Yes, well I watch out for her." Somehow, I could no longer look the lady in the eye.  
  
"I'm sure you do," she responded, with what I thought was a hint of sarcasm.  
  
I sighed, unable to take much more of this. "Yes, well, thank you for the rolls." I paused. "And the éclair. Come on, Fantine."  
  
"Wait," said the patisserie lady. "I have a proposition for you."  
  
I frowned. "Sorry?"  
  
"My brother-in-law owns a farm, several miles north of here. My sister is with child, and they need some help with light labor, feeding the animals, milking the cows...that sort of task." She paused. "It would mean a roof over your heads, and decent meals."  
  
"Animals? Do they have cats? I used to have a kitten," Fantine offered. I couldn't help but be annoyed by her sudden uncharacteristic outburst. It added to my already surprised, uncertain, frustrated state. One the one hand, this was a good offer...provided the people weren't horrible. But on the other, I had gotten by on my own for nearly five years and had done just fine. While I was accepting of charity, this was almost too much for my pride to handle, especially knowing in what low regard the patisserie lady held me.  
  
I began to refuse the offer, but then stopped myself upon noticed Fantine's expression. She was grinning for the first time since I had seen her, and, upon having learned that these people did indeed have cats, was chatting excitedly about her own and wondering aloud whether they would allow her to help care for theirs.  
  
I swallowed, and took advantage of a moment when Fantine paused to take a breath. "I could go with her?"  
  
"Of course," the patisserie lady responded, this time with evident disdain. I knew she thought that I wanted to make sure I got something out of this, but I didn't care. In truth, there wasn't any way that I would let Fantine go off to these people without knowing of their characters. She still couldn't stand up for herself if she needed to, and while this situation seemed as though it would be preferable to her current one, I wanted to be able to help her escape it if such was not the case.  
  
"Thank you," I said, working to unclench my jaw. "It...it sounds like a wonderful opportunity."  
  
"It is," said the lady. "Thank God for it...not many are so lucky."  
  
I stared at the slats of the wooden floor, this time knowing that I couldn't trust myself to speak.  
  
"I'll send someone to pick the two of you up within a week's time. Don't stray too far."  
  
"Well, that's what us 'strays' tend to do, but we'll try hard to stay put." I bit my lip, cursing my stupidity. I had learned that acting on anger was dangerous when you were in no position to do so.  
  
"Careful, girl. Don't forget that I'm going out of my way to help you."  
  
"I'm not...I mean, I didn't. Sorry," I managed.  
  
"Yes, well, see that you don't ruin this for yourself. I'll get everything set up, providing you don't give me reason not to."  
  
"I understand, Madame." Throughout this exchange, Fantine was standing there silently, confused as to why the conversation had shifted from a pleasant chat about kittens to a threatening lecture. "Fantine, thank Madame," I said quietly, deciding that I might as well teach her to grovel, in case her beauty should ever fail her.  
  
"Thank you, Madame!" Fantine said with a big smile, which, as I had predicted, greatly pleased the patisserie lady.  
  
"Of course, dearie," the lady responded. "And if you ever need a thing, just come let me know. I hope you find a kitten you like!"  
  
With that, we left. I felt numb, still unable to process everything that had transpired, and still not sure how I felt about it all.  
  
In a few minutes, Simon walked up. "How'd you make out today, Ellie?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to Fantine and laughed. "Looks like you did okay, Mouse. Saving some of that for later?"  
  
Fantine, with the tell-tale traces of chocolate indeed present on her face, giggled. "Guess what, Simon! The patisserie lady gave me an éclair, and she's gonna let me and Elise--"  
  
"Come back for another one tomorrow," I broke in. For a reason I couldn't quite place, I found myself unable and unwilling to explain to Simon what had transpired...what I had agreed to.  
  
"Well, I might have to try your way after all, Ellie, if it means daily éclairs!" Simon smiled.  
  
I shook my head, responding with an attempt at a smile. "It's Fantine's way that gets éclairs. Mine still only gets the stale rolls." 


End file.
